Defective

Quick note: my friend Matt was all excited about Braunschweig's soccer team winning the game this weekend. He was writing one of the team's chants on his Facebook status, and this German friend of ours replied "hast du ne macke??? omg ..." which, once I translated it, literally means "Do you have a defect? Oh my god ..."

haHA! That is so funny and stereotypically German to me, reading "Do you have a defect" as a rough equivalent of "Are you crazy". I want to bring this back to the States; next time someone gets my food order wrong or cuts me off in traffic, I'm just going to scream "Hast du eine Macke?!"

Abergläubig

So, I have the flu. I know I have the flu because I went to a German doctor here on Thursday, and he told me, "You have the flu" in German. I thought it was just a little cold, but then on Wednesday night I got chills so bad I literally couldn't sleep because I was shivering. I tried putting on all my pajamas, turning up the heat, and getting under a big blanket, but it didn't help. I just shivered and shivered. I would drift off to sleep for a bit, but then I'd have these weird hallucinations/dreams where I was judging the biggest wine competition in the world (I'm reading a book on wine right now). I kept waking up in a cold sweat, shivering, muttering to myself, "The Haut-Brion is a winner!" Ugh. The next morning I got up at first light and went to the doctor.

The flu is a virus, so I can't take something to kill it like you can take antibiotics to kill bacterial infections. I just kinda hafta wait it out and take junk for the symptoms, which I am. I've got an expectorant to get the junk outta my lungs, another med for the sore throat, and paracetamol for the pain, fever, etc. I'm good to go, and I've got a doctor's note excusing me from work for three days. If I weren't sick, that would be awesome.

Also, I've been calling this lady about getting a second job all last week and hadn't heard anything from her. I left two messages with her secretary, saying, "This is Raychel. Please have your boss call me back as soon as possible regarding the job at [this place where I might work]." Nothing. I'm thinking, maybe she's sick. Or maybe she's really busy. Or maybe they don't want me anymore! But today I'm talking with my roommate, Nadine, in the kitchen and she's like, hey I talked with Petra today (Petra's the lady I've been calling about the job; she and Nadine talk because Nadine also works at this place where I want to work) and Petra wants to know what's up with you and why haven't you called her back yet .... WTF?!?! I've called and called and left messages! Have none of those gotten through?! I'm really frustrated at this point because 1) I really need this job and 2) it's going to look like I'm lazy or disinterested when I'm really not and now 3) I might have missed the opportunity to get this job. Hell. I'm sitting there, fuming into my morning tea and griping to Nadine about all of this when she says, "Don't feel bad, blame it on the day."

And I'm like, "Whuh? What do you mean?"

"Are you superstitious?" she asks.

"Whuh?" is my reply once again.

Then we sort of look at each other and I grin as it dawns on me. "Friday the 13th!" we say together. Haha... I've never had a Friday the 13th where the superstition really fit, but this is exactly such a day. Lovely. So I'm staying inside, away from Koswick (the black cat who lives in our building), drinking lots of OJ and watching movies. Y'all do the same. I'm a believer now; this day is bad mojo, people!

PS: I called Petra a few minutes ago. Everything's straightened out and my job papers are going through as planned.

Faux-bias

So, I've been reading everything I can get my hands on lately. English books, German newspapers, backs of cereal boxes in Esperanto, you name it. One of the books I just finished is Modern Phobias: a litany of contemporary fears by Tim Lihoreau. It's a funny compilation of made-up fears. Some of them cracked me up and made me want to share them with you people. Here you go:

arcaphobia - fear of using the cashpoint / ATM towards the end of the month

Lihoreau writes "arcaphobia often developes during student years, when the cashpoint card is less a means to access money and more a trophy to bandy round as a symbol of adulthood ... ultimately, the only cure is to keep tabs on one's money -- which, for an arcaphobe, is akin to asking them to keep count of how many breaths they take each month ..." You see, it's not irresponsibility -- it's a condition!
{orig. der.: arca, strongbox or coffers}

novamundaphobia - fear of Americans

Being American and all, this one really made me laugh: "With a common image of modern America being the obese, non-passport-owning invader, the wartime line of 'overpaid, oversexes, and over here' has been replaced by the more recent 'overweight, over there, overthrow whoever'." The funny thing is that my non-American friends here really do keep making fun of the fact that very few Americans have passports. They have statistics memorized to aid them in poking fun at the non-travelling 90% of American. I mean, I knew we were getting made fun of for the obesity thing but c'mon guys, passports? Really? You're making fun of our lack of passports? The author continues: "To be fair, novamundaphobes fear this image more than the Americans themselves, who invariably turn out to be charming when encountered in the queue for the London Planetarium." Well, there you go then.
{orig. der.: novellus new; mundus world}

obsonophobia - fear of checkouts

This is not what you think it is. These people don't fear waiting to check out, getting in the slow checkout lane, or even being caught buying embarassing things. No, these people fear the SPEED at which you must check out. This is something I've only come across in Germany, where I've frequently had nervous breakdowns trying to pack up my own groceries "while the checkout person hurled fruit and veg at [me] as if [I] were in medieval stocks", which is how Lihoreau describes the fears of obsonophobes. What gives, Germans? What gives?! I miss the check-out boys and girls of America ... sigh ...
{orig. der.: obsonare to shop}

and finally ... oviphobia - fear of jumping on the bandwagon

Ladies and gentlemen, the reason why I've never read a Harry Potter book: Lihoreau writes "Ultimately, oviphobes become their own worst enemy. They have missed a certain boat - often through no fault of their own - and fear they would be seen as just jumping on the bandwagon were they to sign up now. For example, I know one person who missed the Harry Potter bandwagon. By the time she realized that Harry Potter was actually more than quite good, she was years into the whole Potter gravy train. Having previously said she found nothing in it, she couldn't all of a sudden say, 'Oh I do love the clever puns on names, you know ... Diagon Alley' and screech with laughter. She was late. She had missed the boat." This may also be the reason why I never read a book in the Twilight series. Sorry, but true.
{orig. der.: ovis sheep}

Right now I'm reading A Hedonist in the Cellar, a wine guide by Jay McInerney. I guess this means check back here next week for advice on what New World reds to drink with your favorite steak! Woo! Lookit me, gettin' my culture on ...

New Layout

Hey all,

Just in case you didn't notice, there's a new layout to the blog. I haven't decided if I like it yet, so I may play with different layouts this week, but here's one that I like better than the old one. Woo, blog!

Im Anfang War Der "Faust"

So, I saw Faust the other even. In German. In Germany! Woo!

Faust is, like, THE big play from Goethe, who is, like, THE big writer in German history. It's a story about a guy who sells his soul to the devil seeking fulfillment. Hijinks and tragedy ensue.

I went with Caroline and Matt to see the play Thursday night. Matt was sad that I never mentioned him by name in my blog, so, Matt, here's your name in my blog: Matt Matt Matt. Matt's English. Matt's an English assistant like me. Matt's the only person I know, besides Elvis, to successfully rock a pair of white pants. So, Matt.

The play was amazing, by the way. I was happy on a nerd level because I was actually watching a play I'd spent an entire semester analyzing. It's like someone saying, "Hey Raychel, what are you good at? Discussing Faust? Well, tonight we're going to spend a whole night doing that!" I mean, I could actually mouth along with some of the lines (in German, of course); that's how well I know this play. Yeah.

It was also cool, though, because of the technical .... oh, I guess you'd say the technical execution of the play. Faust has a lot of crazy scenes - ghosts being called up, witches, wine spouting from all sorts of places. Whoever was in charge of pulling off these special effects, to borrow a term from film, was a genius. The entire stage was in motion! People were flying down from the rafters, scenery was coming up from below the ground level, actors were jumping out from everywhere. I was thoroughly impressed and tickled to watch my favorite German play. Oh, and did I mention that Goethe's Faust was first performed in Braunschweig? That's bonus cultural points for me, my friends. Bonus!